“The ceremony was performed by a priest?”
“By Père le Guard, the Governor’s chaplain.”
“And Hugo Chevet, your uncle? Did he remain silent? make no protest?”
I gave a gesture of despair.
“He! Never did he even conceive what occurred, until I told him later on the river. Even now I doubt if his sluggish brain has grasped the truth. To him the alliance was an honor, an opening to possible wealth in the fur trade through Cassion’s influence with La Barre. He could perceive nothing else except his good luck in thus ridding himself of the care of a poor niece who had been a sorry burden.”
“But you explained to him?”
“I tried to, but only to regret the effort. Giant as he is physically, his intellect is that of a big boy. All he can conceive of is revenge––a desire to crush with his hands. He hates Cassion, because the man has robbed him of the use of my father’s money; but for my position he cares nothing. To his mind the wrong has all been done to him, and I fear he will brood over it until he seeks revenge. If he does he will ruin everything.”
De Artigny stood silent, evidently in thought, endeavoring to grasp the threads of my tale.
“How did you attain the summit of this bluff?” he questioned at last.